A Visit to the States
by fourteen-teacups
Summary: A working holiday offers the Turner family an opportunity to travel to America
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue: Winter 1965**

"I can't!" whimpered Rhoda Mullucks, as she collapsed back onto the delivery couch.

"Yes you can," encouraged Shelagh, "we're right here with you." Shelagh squeezed Rhoda's hand and glanced across her patient to Nurse Anderson.

The younger nurse smoothed back Rhoda's hair, "You're a strong woman, Mrs Mullucks, and your body knows just what to do."

"That's right, Rhoda," Shelagh continued. "Doctor says he can see the head; now on your next contraction I want you to give us a big push."

Rhoda nodded weakly, but her face was set with a convincing tenacity. Shelagh smiled with relief and thought back to the day when she had confirmed Rhoda's fourth pregnancy.

"But I've gone through the change!" Rhoda had exclaimed. "It's not possible!" She shook her head in disbelief as Shelagh explained the window of fertility that often remained at the start of menopause, especially in the case of early-onset menopause as Rhoda's had been. Shelagh had empathised with her over the shock of a surprise pregnancy and given her hope as well.

The decision for Rhoda to give birth at the maternity home with a full complement of doctor and two nurses was agreed upon by the entire medical team based on her age and the wide range of emotions she was experiencing with this pregnancy. The Turners, and those at Nonnatus, both knew that no one could love a child more than Rhoda loved Susan and it was her intense devotion that allowed the sweet little girl to not only survive but thrive. Nevertheless, it was clear that fear and guilt, however unreasonable, had shadowed Rhoda the past nine months and all concerned were anxious to support her to the best of their ability.

Shelagh felt Rhoda's abdomen tighten, "Contraction coming," she announced.

"Time to push," Lucille instructed. Rhoda leaned forward and bore down with a grimace and a loud groan.

"Head is born," came the report from Dr Turner. He and Shelagh smiled at each other before she turned her attention back to coaching their patient.

"That's it Rhoda, well done." Shelagh praised as Mrs Mullucks began to droop again, "one more push and you can meet your baby."

Lucille held Rhoda's other hand and kept the motivation coming, "Come on now, use all your strength, one last steady push, Mrs Mullucks."

"There we go! It's a bouncing boy!" Dr Turner declared, holding him up for his mother to see. "Now let me just cut the umbilical cord and I will hand him over for a cuddle." Patrick balanced the baby expertly on the sheet on his lap, attached the clamp and cut the cord. Lucille was ready with a towel, taking the tiny boy from the doctor's hands and presenting him to Mrs Mullucks.

The usual euphoria that followed a delivery was evident as Rhoda cooed over her newest son with motherly affection. After a few moments, Nurse Anderson gently took him from her. "Let me get baby cleaned up while Dr and Nurse Turner help you with the third stage." Rhoda nodded and let him go.

As baby and nurse left the delivery room, tears began to flow down Rhoda's cheeks as the emotions of the last few months and hours caught her up. Soon she was shaking and gasping for breath between sobs.

"There, there," Shelagh soothed, handing her a handkerchief. "You're exhausted and the hormones are wreaking havoc on your body."

"It's just," Rhoda started, then hiccuped another sob, "I shouldn't even think it, let alone say it…" she cried.

"What is it?" Shelagh asked gently.

"Thank God he's per-perfect," she choked out on a whispered breath, before dissolving into silent sobs.

"Oh, Rhoda," Shelagh murmured, her own eyes moist, "no one would blame you for thinking that." She put an arm around her and began to rub her back.

At that moment, Rhoda's body went slack just as Shelagh heard Patrick voice, "Haemorrhage!" She looked up in time to see blood overflowing the bowl he was holding to catch the placenta. Glancing back at Rhoda she saw she was as white as a sheet and lying limply against her arm.

"Patrick!" she gasped. As the blood kept coming she realised it was more than she had seen last spring when Mrs Hastings had haemorrhaged. That had been a case she'd tried hard to forget. The injection of ergometrine hadn't been enough to stop the bleeding and the flying squad had arrived too late to save her. In her mind she could still hear baby crying for the mother he would never know.

She felt as though time stood still as she processed the past and the present. Silently she cried out to God for His help in saving Rhoda, this loving mother of four children, one of whom desperately needed the fierce love only she could give. She prayed for a miracle and that their medical facilities, as well as the midwifery skills He had gifted her with, would be sufficient to save Rhoda. She wouldn't let her go without a fight.

Shelagh's eyes locked with Patrick's and she saw the same determination reflected in his gaze. Her mind returned to the present and as an experienced team they moved quickly into action.


	2. Chapter 2

**Arrival: Summer 1964**

The taxi carrying all five Turners drove down a shady, suburban street before pulling up in front of a small, bungalow style home. The tan house sat just behind a patch of lawn bisected by a cement walkway. Two steps led up to a covered stoop and a dark brown front door with wood paned windows on either side, a small flower bed below each one. A sidewalk ran in front alongside a strip of grass, parallel to the street, from which the tiny green leaves and lavender flowers of two jacaranda trees flourished.

Many of the houses on the street were of similar size and shape, with the same modest front gardens, but others truly reminded Shelagh she was in California now. These were white stucco with Spanish tile roofs and huge palm trees towering in the parkway by the street.

Stepping out of the car, she welcomed the late afternoon sunshine accompanied by the clean, salty smell of a sea breeze, nothing like the fishy odor of the East London docks. They had been told Professor Bartlett's home wasn't far from the Pacific Ocean and the fresh, cool air was a delightful reminder.

A month ago none of them could have dreamed they would be spending a week of their summer on the west coast of America. Shelagh's mind still spun at how quickly it had happened as she thought back to the evening Patrick had arrived home, excited to share some interesting news.

* * *

"Shelagh," he greeted her in the kitchen with a quick kiss to her cheek, mid-sentence, "a group of doctors from the London has been sponsored by the NHS to visit a teaching hospital in California."

"Hello, Patrick," she remarked wryly. "Why California of all places?"

"They have been commissioned to learn first hand from the cutting edge techniques being used at Bonita Beach Community Hospital in the hope they can be put into practise in our British hospitals; but there's more!"

She chuckled at his enthusiasm while continuing to wipe down the countertops, "Yes, dearest?"

"Well, unfortunately," and here he tried to look contrite, "all four men were exposed to rubella during a review of patient records protocol at Great Ormond Street and have been advised not to travel internationally."

The sparkle in his eye raised her suspicions and stopped her work, "Patrick…?"

He sighed, but it was accompanied by a small smile as he leaned against the adjacent counter, "They've asked me to go instead, and to assemble a team from Nonnatus to travel with me."

Her expression revealed her confusion, "From Nonnatus?"

"Yes," his keenness bubbled to the surface again with a boyish grin, "our joint work in district practise as well as at the maternity home make us an ideal team to benefit from this training."

"Well," she hummed, her brain already calculating the possibilities, "we now know of a good locum to cover for you, but how are we going to make up for the lack of nurses at the maternity home, at clinic, and in the community?"

"We'll manage," he offered earnestly, "perhaps in the same way as when so many of us were in South Africa."

She nodded; he was right, somehow it had all worked out.

"And speaking of South Africa…" he continued.

A sense of unease began to settle over her, "Yes?"

"Jim Stephens specifically asked that you be included; seeing as you're the bridge between my practise and Nonnatus."

Now her anxiety was real, "Oh no, Patrick; I am not leaving the children again!" Tears began to sting her eyes, "Not with Teddy being so young!"

Putting his arm around her, he drew her in close to his side, "Nothing has to be decided right away. We'll set up a meeting with Sister Julienne and go from there." Both his words and his touch reassured her, even as the number of unanswered questions seemed to multiply, especially concerning how this would affect their family.

Just a few days later, their meeting with the Nonnatus sister in charge produced as many surprises as answers to those questions. Sister Julienne listened and considered; her years of wise counsel made her sensitive to the slightest discontent. Attuned to the root of the tension, she astounded both Patrick and Shelagh with her proposal, "I don't see why you would need any other representatives from Nonnatus House when you'll have Nurse Turner with you." The sister smiled benevolently at their stunned expressions and continued, "I know it was difficult for you to leave the children when you assisted at Hope Clinic, you could take them with you this time, while the rest of us oversee everything here."

"Take them with us?" Patrick was as astonished as his wife.

"Of course! The two of you are more than able to garner and convey the medical information that will be presented. Timothy and Angela can use the two extra aeroplane tickets; I do not expect Teddy will yet be needing his own." The sister watched, with contented countenance, as the Turners' faces turned from amazement to relief and then joy.

Thus began a whirlwind of preparations as Shelagh arranged passports for the children and tried to fit into her already busy schedule some shopping and a bit of sewing to fill out the family's summer wardrobe. Lodgings had providentially been arranged for them by Patrick's colleague, James McAdam. Evidently his great aunt had emigrated years ago and he had a cousin living in a southern California beach town not far from the hospital they were to visit. Professor Nicholas Bartlett lectured at the local university and he and his small family were happy to host the Turners for a week in exchange for a bit of lively conversation and a few home-cooked English meals.

Mrs Bartlett had written to suggest Shelagh order any clothing items she was still in need of from the Sears catalogue and have them delivered to their home in California. This would ensure they would arrive in time for their visit as well as save on overseas shipping fees. Shelagh was thrilled to find a copy of the catalogue at the Poplar library and brought it home to peruse during her rare moments of free time.

Out of all the Turners, Timothy was the most excited about their upcoming visit to the States. He considered himself the family expert on the country; the girl he was seeing had lived most of her life in the American Midwest. Tim took every available opportunity to educate them on the different words Americans used, their unique pronunciations, famous landmarks and any other random fact he found interesting. In addition, he couldn't let the occasion pass without teasing Patrick, reminding his father how he had not so long ago displayed an unsavory bias towards Americans in general. This was met with mixed reaction; although Patrick received Tim's ribbing good-naturedly, Shelagh knew he was still tender about his error and the temporary breach it had caused between him and his son. With a subtle nudge from her, Tim scaled back the barbs but doubled his efforts on their American education. It was a small price to pay, his mother reasoned.

And then finally, close to twenty-four hours ago their family had left home for the London airport and boarded a flight with a stopover in Baltimore, Maryland. Peering out the windows of the aeroplane, the Turners experienced their first view of the eastern United States. Now having flown to the opposite coast, followed by a long taxi ride from the Los Angeles airport, Shelagh prayed her family would have enough energy for the good graces necessary to make a proper first impression on their hosts.

* * *

As Patrick helped the cabbie remove their luggage from the boot, Timothy and Shelagh coaxed the little ones out of the taxi. Angela clung to Shelagh in fatigue and apprehension, while Teddy struggled against Tim in an immediate bid for freedom. The victorious tot set to exercising his wee legs, first toddling along the pavement then reaching down to investigate several twigs that caught his interest.

The door to the house opened and a smiling welcoming committee emerged. Professor Bartlett was the first down the steps with Mrs Bartlett close behind him, wiping her hands on a tea towel. Hovering for a moment just inside the doorway stood their daughter Mary, twelve years old and according to her mother's letters, as shy as Angela. After a gentle maternal suggestion she followed her parents toward their guests.

As the two families greeted each other with handshakes and introductions, a grey and white cat strode confidently out of the front door and leapt off the side of the stoop, not stopping until he reached Angela's feet. Her tired, anxious face lit up at the sight of him, "Look, Mummy!" she exclaimed, before plopping down beside him. The family pet stepped lightly into her lap and indulged himself in a cuddle.

While Mrs Bartlett cooed over the little girl's precious accent and Mary wore a look of endearment at Angela's excitement, the three eldest Turners breathed a sigh of relief at the dramatic rise in Angela's comfort level.

Professor Bartlett began to laugh, which ultimately infected the rest of the group, "Well now you've met all of us, this is our Rascal!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Bonita Bay**

Shelagh was surprised to learn that not only did the Bartletts own two cars, but Mrs Bartlett knew how to drive. She had assigned her white Chevrolet saloon car, which the Americans called a sedan, to the Turners for the duration of their stay. She wouldn't be needing it since she taught at the local school and it was not only within walking distance, but out of session for the summer holidays. Nick Bartlett drove a two-seater Sunbeam and they both assured Patrick and Shelagh that their family of three could easily get by with the smaller car just for the week.

As usual it took Shelagh most of the morning to get the five Turners out the door. There were beach things to gather, the packed lunch to prepare, suncream to apply, and then the car to be loaded. Teddy even had time to take a short morning nap before they were ready to leave. But finally, at eleven o'clock, Patrick pulled away from the kerb and headed south toward the call of the Pacific Ocean. "Although Bonita Beach is on the west coast of California, due to its coastal geography the beach actually faces south," Timothy informed them. They crossed what Shelagh considered Bonita's high street just as The Beach Boys' hit, Surfin' USA, began to play on the car radio and quite soon afterwards they reached the main road which ran along the beach. Turning left, Patrick drove them out onto a peninsula, which Tim reported was "a finger-shaped landform almost entirely surrounded by water except where it connects to the mainland." The road narrowed to allow for the houses on either side as well as short, tapered streets lined up to the right and left all along the point. Each lane was filled with homes crowded in next to each other, more representative of Poplar than anything they had seen since their arrival.

The right side of the peninsula faced the ocean, while the left overlooked a sheltered bay. Tim alerted Patrick to an available parking spot and he turned the car into one of the small lanes on the left, pulling in just far enough so the car would be clear of the main road.

"Best leave the car right here," Patrick remarked, "I'm not used to the size of it, compared to the MG or even the Zodiac, besides I don't think there is any way I can turn it around in this small space when it's time to leave."

Tim leaned forward from the backseat and laughed, "Good plan. You're having enough trouble remembering which side of the road to drive on."

"I'll be sure to remember that in a few months when you're learning to drive," Patrick chuckled.

"If you two are finished," Shelagh smiled, "there's plenty of unloading to do. But it's not a far walk...oh look, Angela, you can see the bay from here!"

Angela stood up from her seat, looked out through the windshield and gasped, "I see it! Let's go!" she sang out, bouncing up and down with excitement.

Patrick and Timothy climbed out of the car, grinning in response to Angela's joy, and walked round to the boot.

"We'll all need to carry something, dearest," Shelagh advised her daughter. "Daddy and Timmy will help with the heavy things but you can carry your sand pail and shovel while I take Teddy." The little girl nodded. Once she had received her sand toys, she took Shelagh's hand and they walked down the short street to find three cement steps that led up to the beach.

Even before they reached the stairs they could see a long, narrow strip of sand and the bay spread out in front of them, calm and peaceful, almost like a lake. A few sailboats drifted by on the stretch of water and beyond that were more homes clustered on a small island which ran parallel to the peninsula.

Shelagh helped Angela navigate the steps and chuckled at her squeal when her feet first met the sand. "You're a bit wobbly, dearest, and do try to keep your shoes on until we get settled," but Angela was already kicking them off. Shaking her head at her stubborn daughter, she glanced down the sand and caught sight of a large tree, the one Mrs Bartlett had described as inexplicably growing right on the beach and offering welcome shade to the many young families who enjoyed this side of the peninsula. After waiting for Angela to pick up her sandals, she led her down the beach toward the tree.

As they reached its shelter she let go of Angela and waved to Timothy and Patrick in the distance. Turning her eyes back to her wee girl, who was halfway to the water's edge by that point, she called out, "Wait for me, Angela!" Toting Teddy with her, she caught up to the little lass and took her hand again. "We have to be careful near the water; you need one of us with you if you would like to go in."

Angela nodded energetically, "I want to go in!" she asserted.

"I can see that," Shelagh smiled, "but you've still got your dress on over your bathing costume and I need to take my shoes off and Teddy's as well." Angela sighed, but followed her mummy back to the tree where Patrick was lining up their bags and picnic basket while Tim laid out a few of the beach blankets.

"Angela is desperate for a paddle," Shelagh informed them as she helped the child out of her dress and placed the garment into one of the bags.

"Of course she is!" Patrick leaned down and playfully tapped Angela's nose, "and I wonder what kind of seashells you will find while we're here?" While father and daughter giggled, Shelagh slipped out of her sandals and began to remove Teddy's shoes.

Timothy, finished with the towels, spoke up, "I'd quite like to explore the other side of the peninsula."

"But we've just got here!" Shelagh exclaimed.

Patrick reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "Not to worry," he soothed, "you take these two for their paddle and Tim and I will see what the ocean side of this landform has to offer." Shelagh huffed and he ran his hand along her arm in a calming gesture. "We'll be back before too long for family time and a bite of lunch," he added, satisfied with her small smile of acceptance.

"Bye, Daddy! Bye, Timmy!" Angela called, tugging her mother back toward the water. Patrick leaned down to quickly kiss Shelagh's cheek, and with that the boys took their beach towels and set off, leaving Shelagh and the little ones to dip their feet into the bay.

"It's cold!" Angela shrieked, happily splashing about. Shelagh set Teddy down, the damp sand was firmer near the water's edge and he was able to toddle along the shoreline. Now that her hands were free she could finally adjust her sunglasses; they didn't fit as well as she would have liked but at least they kept her eyes from watering. Angela had waded as far as her knees and was swinging her arms out to her sides, flitting her fingertips along the top of the water.

"That's far enough, dearest," Shelagh reminded her, "you'll have to wait for Daddy and Timmy to take you deeper."

"Yes, Mummy." Angela stayed where she was and watched a coast guard boat motor by. A few moments later she giggled as the small, rippling waves left by it's wake reached her. Teddy, who had been entertaining himself with repeatedly picking up small handfuls of sand and throwing them into the sea, looked up and took a step in her direction. As soon as his toes touched the cold water he startled and ran back to his mother for a cuddle. Catching sight of several seagulls on the sand behind her, he moved to follow them up the beach.

Shelagh called to her daughter, "Angela, it's time to come out of the bay! Fetch your sand pail and we'll try our hand searching for seashells!" The little girl emerged, water dripping from her tiny legs, and ran to find the items she had left under the tree. Joining her mother and brother, she frowned, scratching at the sand that had stuck to her wet skin. Shelagh advised her to rinse off in the water and then the three of them began a leisurely stroll along the seaside. Angela cheerfully picked up small shells, collecting them in her bucket, while Teddy chased sandpipers and tried to stay on his feet.

A light breeze ruffled through Shelagh's hair. It was a beautiful, sunny day and the beach here was serene and relaxing. Several other families were scattered along its length, but so few it almost felt like their own private oasis. Adding to this perfection was the salty scent of the sea air and the distant cries of seabirds along with small boats gliding by at peaceful intervals. She was enjoying this time with her two little ones, sharing in their happy discoveries, and she felt a little ashamed about her earlier frustration with Patrick and Timothy. Of course Tim would want to spread his wings a bit, after having been so tied to the neighbourhood thus far, and it was kind of Patrick to accompany him. Truth be told, she wouldn't have been able to relax had he gone off on his own.

* * *

They had spent their first full day in America catching up on sleep and being warmly doted on by the Bartlett family. Mary, although a quiet child, shared Tim's interest in books and board games and the two ticked along as nicely as if they were similarly aged siblings. Mrs Bartlett was happy to lend a hand with Teddy and Angela, giving Shelagh time to recover from her jet lag, while the professor left a stack of scholarly journals for Dr and Mrs Turner to peruse at their leisure. Comforting meals and strong cups of coffee were kindly made available, even at odd hours, and by the next day all five Turners were better attuned to Pacific Standard Time.

On Sunday morning the two families walked to the local church for services; Shelagh was impressed with the beautiful woodwork and stained glass while Tim was amazed by the highly skilled organist. The highlight for the rest of the family had been the donuts served on the front lawn afterwards. Later that evening the Bartlett's neighbours welcomed them with something called a Progressive Dinner. The adults on the Bartlett's end of the street walked from house to house, with each one hosting a different part of the meal: cocktails and starters, soup and salad, main course, and dessert. The event started early enough that the children were able to take advantage of the daylight and entertain themselves outdoors. Each of the families had been extremely gracious and very friendly, and Shelagh felt honoured by their hospitality.

* * *

Halfway through her reverie, Shelagh turned the two children around and they were almost parallel to their tree when Teddy lost his balance and sat down with some force on an area of hard sand covered with an inch or two of cold water. His unhappy wail communicated his displeasure and even mummy's cuddles would not console him. The threesome returned to their beach blankets and Shelagh prepared a bottle for him. His eyelids drooped as he drained the milk and she laid him down to sleep on one towel, while she and Angela quietly sorted and categorized her seashells on the other.

As Shelagh chatted with Angela she began to prepare her for the plans set for the next few days, when she and Patrick would visit the hospital. The children were to stay behind to play with the Bartletts and their new friends. She reminded Angela this wasn't just a holiday for the family, it involved some work for mummy and daddy as well. She was hopeful this would be met with acceptance; the neighbourhood girls were besotted with Angela and Teddy, treating them almost as little English dolls to dress up and pamper. At one point during the previous evening they were rolled by in a wheelbarrow dressed as a wee prince and princess. Shelagh felt comfortable knowing Timothy was looking out for the little ones, even as he fended off the attentions of a few of the older girls. Apparently, his accent was considered quite charming. She wondered if her husband's was having a similar effect on the American women.

Suppressing a giggle, she reassured herself that her current choice in swimwear would keep him in the palm of her own hand. One evening, back in Poplar, when she was thumbing through the Sears catalogue, Patrick leaned over her shoulder and cheekily expressed interest in a yellow two-piece bathing costume which practically jumped off the page. She hadn't really needed a new one, her sunsuit from their South Africa trip would have sufficed, but she liked the idea of surprising him and felt a certain boldness knowing they would be too far from home for anyone she knew to see her wearing it. So she made the purchase and had it delivered to the Bartlett's home along with the rest of the family's catalogue order. At the present time, however, it was still beneath her cover up which she hadn't yet had the nerve to remove.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Patrick and Timothy appeared down the sand, their own bathing costumes soaking wet. Timothy had removed his matching cabana shirt in an effort, Shelagh assumed, to blend in with the local boys. Patrick had kept his on but in it's dampness it clung to his chest somewhat...pleasantly; she hoped her blush wasn't noticeable.

She put her finger to her lips and gestured to Teddy, dozing beside her. Keeping their voices low, they told of their adventures. "The waves over there are outta sight!" Tim exclaimed.

"Three days in and he's already adept at speaking American," Patrick commented wryly.

Tim laughed, "C'mon, Dad, you know they were!"

Patrick agreed with a grin, "Apparently, we were _body surfing_." At Shelagh's look of confusion he clarified, "riding into the beach on the crest of the wave, without a surfboard-"

"Because _we_ were the board!" Tim interrupted.

"Tim is embracing the American culture," Patrick quipped. "But it was quite exhilarating," he confirmed, before turning his attention to Angela, eager to inspect her collection of seashells and to hear about her morning.

"Timothy," Shelagh observed, "if you insist on keeping your shirt off, you will need to apply more suncream; we're not used to this much sun!"

"I'll put it back on, Mum," he sighed as he shrugged into his shirt, "besides, I thought I'd take Angela down the road to get an ice cream. I remembered Mrs Bartlett said there was a shop not far from here."

Angela was on her feet the minute she heard Tim say the word ice cream. Patrick dug into one of the bags for his wallet while Shelagh helped Angela into her dress and shoes. After reminders for Angela to stay right with Timmy, and for neither of them to spoil their lunch, the two headed in the direction of the promised treat.

Looking around, Patrick remarked, "It's a very different crowd on the other side of the street; a lot more teenagers, most of them quite underdressed." He shook his head, then eyed her cover up, "speaking of which, are you afraid of getting too much sun?"

"I might have been," she said, undoing the first few buttons, "but now I have you to help with the suncream. It's in the blue bag over there, right next to your sunglasses." While he searched for it, she took a deep breath to steady herself. Her new bathing costume wasn't really that much different from her sunsuit, just a little shorter and missing the fabric around her middle, maybe a bit more fitted on top...she slid out of her wrap and tossed it aside, keeping her eyes on Patrick. He turned back with the bottle in his hand and froze, then puffed out a startled breath. Slowly, his features transformed into a rather satisfied expression as he took in the sight of his delightfully appealing wife.

Attempting to find his voice, he stammered, "What are you wearing?"

"A little treat for you, I should think," Shelagh flirted. "I noticed you liked the picture in the catalogue."

"That I did," he murmured appreciatively, angling his head to the side to extend his view, "and you were right to worry about the suncream." She moved toward him to tap the bottle with her finger and he looked down at it as if just remembering that he held it in his hands. Smiling broadly at the task set before him, he began applying the cream to her shoulders and then, when she turned around, her back. His hands were purposeful, yet gentle, and she closed her eyes in contentment.

Long leisurely moments passed until an agitated huff from her husband disturbed their peace. She looked back in time to see him sigh dramatically, "I just remembered we have very little privacy in our current bedroom."

Shelagh smiled sweetly, "We have found ways around that complication before…"

His disappointment faded, replaced with a rakish grin, just as Teddy began to stir. "You need to work on your timing, young man," Patrick laughed, ruffling the little boy's hair. Teddy beamed at his daddy, using him as leverage to pull himself up.

In an attempt to keep him from toddling off, Shelagh began to set out the lunch. She handed Patrick a banana for Teddy and he served him small pieces while Shelagh unpacked the rest of their picnic. Anticipating the impending arrival of Angela, and particularly Timothy, she slipped her arms back into her cover up, but made a compromise for Patrick and left it unbuttoned.

When the children returned, the family enjoyed a lovely and unhurried, picnic lunch. As Shelagh cleared it away, Timothy and Patrick built sandcastles with the little ones. Tim helped Angela create traditional castles with seashell windows and water-filled moats while Patrick stacked sand just so Teddy could knock it down. Shelagh rummaged through the bags until she found their camera and captured several memories of their California beach day.

By now since they were thoroughly covered with sand, and warmed from the sun, the Turners ventured out into the bay. Patrick and Timothy took turns between swimming and helping Angela learn to float on her back. Later she giggled happily while riding on Tim's shoulders as he waded out as far and he could stand and she was even brave enough to float in her daddy's arms as he swam across the shallow areas. Shelagh, having left her wrap back with their bags, waded out to her waist with Teddy in her arms. He was content to watch the fun from the safety of his mummy's grasp but participated by kicking his little feet in the cool water. Shelagh shifted him on her hip as she took it all in, soon the sun would begin to set and this blissful day would come to an end; tomorrow they had work to do. Teddy directed her attention to several passing sailboats and they watched them float by with the sound of happy laughter in the background. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Timothy lean in toward Patrick. They spoke quietly, but their voices carried across the water.

"So Mum's new bathing costume..." Tim muttered.

"Yes," Patrick raised his eyebrows, "it looks as if she's embraced America as well."


	4. Chapter 4

**Bonita Beach Community Hospital**

"Right then," Patrick began enthusiastically, "we're to meet Dr Dale in Reception at half past nine. Nick gave me a decent description so I think I'll be able to recognise him. They don't cross paths often at the university, but they have served on a few committees together."

Shelagh nodded in agreement and watched her husband drum his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, waiting for the traffic light to change. Reaching into her handbag, she withdrew an envelope, "His letter says we can expect a tour of Labor and Delivery as well as the Maternity Ward. But of course the main reason for our visit is to learn about the toolkits. I hope there won't be a need for us to see them in use but he does say we will have an opportunity to observe one of their practise drills."

The light turned green and Patrick eased the car forward. "Shelagh, if they are truly experiencing the success they've reported, the impact could be profound! Maternal haemorrhages account for far too many postpartum deaths."

"Quite." Her eyes sparkled with anticipation, "It's thrilling to be part of something like this, Patrick!"

He beamed at her and reached for her hand, "Isn't it? I'm so glad you're here to experience it with me."

Squeezing his hand in return, she continued her task as navigator, but as she directed him along their course, her thoughts drifted back to the children. "Are you certain they'll be alright today on their own?"

He laughed, "They're hardly on their own, Shelagh! Timothy is with them, and Mrs Bartlett, as well as half the neighbourhood children."

"I suppose you're right," she murmured. "The girls mentioned organising a performance of some kind."

"You see? I doubt they will even notice we've gone," Patrick mused. "In fact once we're back home you'll probably find them missing all the attention."

"Timothy won't be," she giggled. "Oh, there it is! Turn left here."

Patrick pulled into the wide drive that fronted the hospital. It circled around for patient drop off, a tiered Spanish fountain at its center. Double doors, topped by an arched window, announced the wide two-storeyed entrance. Two long wings, complete with Spanish tile roofs, ran perpendicular to the front wing on either side.

After turning right and leaving the sedan in the car park, they made their way toward Reception with ten minutes to spare.

Shelagh couldn't resist, "California Patrick is pleasingly punctual," she teased.

He replied with a chuckle and a wink. "Mind your cheek, Mrs Turner," he murmured as he ushered her through the double doors and into the entrance hall.

A red tiled floor stretched out in either direction and a long wooden desk, closer to the back of the room, stood central. Windows along the rear of the hall opened the view to a fourth stretch of building in the distance, connecting the long side wings and creating an enclosed courtyard. Paved with the same red tiles they were standing on, it was beautifully landscaped with small palm trees and bougainvillea vines boasting bright pink, paper-like flowers. A smaller version of the fountain from out front was surrounded by garden benches and short walking paths.

"Dr and Mrs Turner!" Patrick and Shelagh looked up as a deep voice echoed through the hall. The doctor approached them, his hand outstretched in the familiar greeting. He looked to be about Patrick's age, although shorter and with broader shoulders. His eyes were a kind and intelligent blue, his hair a mixture of light and darker grey. He wore a clinical coat over trousers, dress shirt and, Shelagh noticed with amusement, a very well-chosen tie.

"Welcome to our little hospital," Dr Dale enthused.

"Thank you," Patrick replied, "we're glad to be here."

"I thought we could get better acquainted in my office before you have your tour," he explained while leading them out the back doors and through the courtyard to the rear wing. The medical staff offices were situated in this part of the hospital with doors opening to small rooms on either side of the corridor. Dr Dale's was compact and cramped with overflowing bookshelves, but his desk was neat; two chairs were available opposite the desk for the Turner's visit. The window overlooking the courtyard garden more than made up for the tiny space.

Dr Dale asked several questions about their international journey and was interested to know how they had spent their time thus far before getting down to business. "I know you are most interested in seeing the haemorrhage carts, so let me start with some background. The system began with a Dr Lagrew, who came out to southern California for a medical fellowship. Researching how to lower maternal death rates, he and his team found that one of the most common, yet preventable, causes was obstetrical haemorrhage."

"And the most prevalent reason for that is uterine atony," Patrick remarked.

Shelagh nodded in agreement, "Adding to the complication, a significant percentage of women have no known risk factors."

"Hence, the haemorrhage carts," said Dr Dale. "The idea came from the readily accessible code blue carts many hospitals are now using in cases of cardiopulmonary arrest. In the event of a haemorrhage, the clinical team has everything at its fingertips: the medications, the instruments, the tools for technical procedures."

"There is such time sensitivity involved with a haemorrhage, these trolleys-sorry, carts-would be invaluable." Shelagh marveled.

Patrick leaned forward, "Are they mainly part of the equipment in delivery suites," he wondered, "or are they made available on ante- and postpartum wards as well?"

Dr Dale answered, "We started with just one in labor and delivery, but as more funding has come through we have been able to increase that number."

A nurse rapped on the open door of the office; her brown hair featured a short pixie cut and she was dressed in a uniform of white, including dress, stockings, shoes and cap. Dr Dale greeted her and introduced her to the Turners, "This is Nurse Jones, she's here to give you a tour of the maternity ward followed by our labor and delivery rooms. Afterwards, I'll join you while you observe one of our drills."

Patrick and Shelagh bid farewell to Dr Dale and followed Nurse Jones down the corridor toward the north wing. Here the maternity ward was housed, with a small nursery and the nurses' station in the center. Semi-private rooms with two beds each were located on either side of the corridor. Shelagh noted that the hospital was equipped with much more modern features and furniture than the maternity home and even their local hospitals; she would certainly have enjoyed one of the push-button adjustable beds during her time at St Cuthbert's.

The nurse explained that the general female patients were housed just upstairs and the male patients on the second floor of the south wing, above labor and delivery and general surgery. Once in the south wing, she took them into an empty delivery room where they had their first look at one of the haemorrhage trolleys; off-white with four red drawers, it stood on wheels and was about a meter in height.

"The purpose of the drills are threefold," Nurse Jones informed them. "We review our procedures, identify and correct any problems within our system, and practice the necessary skills. The carts won't be effective without a practised plan alongside them."

"Well said, Nurse," commented Dr Dale, as he walked into the room followed by three other members of the medical staff. He introduced Patrick and Shelagh to Dr Thompson, a young resident physician; Nurse Cooper, the oldest and most experienced of the group; and Nurse Burns, a newer member of the team who looked determined to prove herself. "Alright," the doctor announced, rubbing his hands together, "let's get started."

Patrick and Shelagh stepped to the back of the room with Dr Dale as Nurse Jones took the lead, "Step One: Review the checklist and verify that every item is in the cart." Nurse Cooper called out the items on the list while the other two located them, including medical supplies used both infrequently and in routine cases.

"Step Two:" she continued, "Nurse Burns, as the junior member of this team, your responsibility includes contacting the pharmacy and blood bank if the need arises. Remind yourself now of those telephone numbers."

The young nurse recited, "Pharmacy, extension 1473; Blood bank, extension 6750."

Next Nurse Jones gave the group a chart detailing the attributes of their imaginary patient. The staff members studied the information before handing it off to Nurse Cooper. She read aloud, "Patient is a female primigravida, 39.2 weeks along, 26 years old, blood type O+, no complications during the pregnancy," then placed the file in a chart rack on the wall.

The group arranged themselves around the delivery bed and awaited Nurse Jones' instructions. She began to narrate the simulation, "First stage passes normally; second stage, healthy baby is born." Nurse Cooper moved to the cot as she would to clean and care for any new infant. Nurse Jones went on, "Third stage, placenta delivered." Nurse Burns collected a paper mat, which would have held the placenta, and set it on a nearby surface for inspection, but was redirected by Nurse Jones' next words, "Haemorrhage!"

Shelagh felt her adrenaline surge, even though she knew she was merely observing a drill. Aware of the immediate tension in Patrick's stance, she understood his professional instincts were triggered as well.

Nurse Cooper quickly returned to the bed as Nurse Burns handed her a calibrated bowl from the trolley. Dr Thompson called for an injection of oxytocin and the younger nurse reached for the telephone to make the pharmacy request.

"I notice he's ordering oxytocin instead of ergometrine," Patrick whispered to Dr Dale.

"We've found oxytocin to have less side effects of vomiting, nausea or high blood pressure than ergometrine;" Dr Dale replied, "although the combination drug of ergometrine-oxytocin has been proven the most effective in some cases."

Patrick nodded his understanding.

"I'm comfortable with our doctors using either drug," Dr Dale concluded.

An orderly arrived with the delivery of the artificial medication, for the purposes of such drills, just as Nurse Jones announced the amount of blood loss. Dr Thompson ordered a blood transfusion sending Nurse Burns back to the phone to call for the pint of O+. Nurse Cooper reported she was commencing with uterine massage to further encourage the uterus to contract at the same time as Nurse Burns turned to the doorway to receive the requested mock supply of blood.

As she took the bag to the bedside and began the simulated transfusion, Nurse Jones announced the all clear, "Haemorrhage has ceased, patient is stable." A collective sigh escaped from all those present in the room.

Nurse Jones joined the rest of the clinical staff and they began to assess the recent drill, focusing on what went smoothly and what could be improved upon in a real situation.

Dr Dale turned to Patrick and Shelagh, "The team will use this time to address any issues in our system that need correction as well as to review the use of the intrauterine balloon and compression sutures. We don't have a need for them on a regular basis so it's important to be sure our staff is up to date on their usage."

"How often do you hold these practise sessions?" asked Patrick.

"We'll run two more drills today," the doctor answered, "with teams from each of our other two shifts, and we schedule these sessions once a quarter. When new guidelines are released we add an additional drill to ensure we are up to speed with the changes."

Shelagh spoke up, "The efficiency is impressive; with such a standardised, straightforward procedure not a moment of precious time is lost."

"Indeed," Dr Dale agreed, "Our goal is an expert response team with good communication to ensure a positive outcome."

Patrick and Shelagh shared a look of hopeful anticipation.

"I wonder," Patrick asked, "if I might bring my son back tomorrow to photograph the toolkits?"

"I think that can definitely be arranged," Dr Dale said with a smile. "Now let's get some lunch and we can go over the details of how best you can share this information with your National Health System," the doctor gestured to the door and led them out of the delivery room and up the corridor in the direction of the hospital cafeteria.

xxxxxxxxxx

Later that afternoon, Patrick pulled up to the kerb in front of the Bartlett's house as Timothy came down off the stoop to greet them, looking a bit strained. Seeing their excited faces as he approached the Chevrolet, he opened Shelagh's door for her.

"Hello Timothy! We've had the most thrilling day," she began, hurrying past him to find Teddy and Angela inside. "Your father will tell you all about it!"

Patrick stepped out of the car and quickly briefed Tim on the day's activity. "And tomorrow," he continued, "I'm taking you with me to photograph the trolleys and their contents so we can take the information home visually."

Tim looked relieved, "That's brilliant! To tell you the truth, it's getting exhausting being around here."

"Exhausting?" Patrick was confused.

"The older girls are completely obsessed with The Beatles," Tim explained, rolling his eyes, "they're constantly asking me questions about them and then giggling over my accent." Tim shook his head.

"It's the burden of the Turner charm, son," Patrick laughed, reaching out to ruffle the boy's hair.

Tim, however, was too fast for him and ducked out of the way. As he ran up the steps and into the house he warned, "Just don't tell them you're from Liverpool, Dad. You'll never make it out alive!"


	5. Chapter 5

**The Happiest Place on Earth**

According to the Bartletts, no family holiday in California was complete without a visit to Disneyland. Consequently, on Saturday morning the Turners found themselves approaching the main entrance to the theme park, hoping somehow they would later be reunited with the Chevrolet they left in the vast car park.

Once they passed through the front gates and under the arches of the Disneyland railroad, they entered the village green. A tall flagpole rose in the middle of the square, the Disneyland City Hall and Fire Department stood to the left with the High Street straight ahead of them.

"This is Town Square and Main Street; they were modeled after Mr Disney's hometown of Marceline, Missouri," Timothy informed them, reading from the pamphlet they had been handed at the gate. "It was built using forced perspective, the upper storeys are constructed on a smaller scale than the lower ones, so it's actually not as big as it appears!"

Moving down the thoroughfare, they passed shops on either side including an Emporium, the Penny Arcade, a Glass Blowing shop and the Carnation Ice Cream Parlor. Old fashioned motorcars and horse drawn streetcars ferried visitors along the short street, but most of the guests preferred to walk and window shop. In the background nostalgic tunes were piped in, augmenting the small-town atmosphere, several of which Shelagh recognized. She pushed Teddy's stroller as she hummed along, hearing the words in her mind, _You hold her hand as she holds yours and that's a very good sign…_

Beside her, Patrick must have been doing the same because he took her hand as he whistled, then broke into song with the last line, _"That she's your tootsie wootsie in the good old summertime!"_

Shelagh giggled and they beamed at each other, much to their teenage son's disapproval. "So you two are intent on being embarrassing even in America?" In response to his groan, Shelagh patted his shoulder in apology.

Looking the length of the street, they could see Sleeping Beauty's castle rising in the distance drawing visitors further into the park.

"Mr Disney's dream for a theme park wasn't met with optimism by most people," Tim continued from the brochure. "In fact, it's opening day in 1955 was a bit of disaster."

"Timothy," Shelagh scolded him, "I wish you would display a more positive attitude."

"It's true, Mum," he countered, "it was so hot the pavement on Main Street melted into a sticky mess and trapped the high heeled shoes of some of the women!"

Patrick chuckled and gave Shelagh a sympathetic look; as usual, their son's information was fact-based.

"And not all of the rides were finished in time either," Tim elaborated. "But things turned around quite quickly; within seven weeks attendance had reached a total of a million visitors!"

"And the rest, you could say, is history," Patrick noted as all five of them took in the impressive surroundings.

Shelagh studied the map Tim was holding, "Mrs Bartlett suggested the best place to start for Angela and Teddy would be…Fantasyland."

Tim traced a route with his finger, "That would be straight ahead then."

Approaching the castle, they crossed the bridge over the moat, complete with a pair of white swans, and passed atop the drawbridge. The castle itself was effectively an entry tunnel into the children's paradise known as Fantasyland. Angela's eyes widened as she took in the flying elephants, life-sized spinning teacups, vendors with enormous bunches of balloons and a noisy and colorful carousel.

Patrick eyed the map over Tim's shoulder, "Oh, look at this; a proper Wind in the Willows attraction!" He was keen to start with Mr Toad's Wild Ride, the novel held such fond memories for him, first as a boy and then again when he shared it with Tim. Angela was more interested in fairy tales but he looked forward to introducing Teddy to Mole, Ratty and the irrepressible Mr Toad. The two youngest Turners, however, had spied King Arthur's Carousel and so the family joined its queue, allowing the little one's squeals of excitement to set the agenda.

Patrick helped Shelagh onto a white carousel horse decorated in pink and purple, nearest the center of the merry-go-round. She sat sidesaddle and held Teddy on her lap. Tim put Angela on the pony next to her, then clambered onto the third and final steed in that row, a black stallion with a regal red and blue caparison. Patrick stood between his girls to be certain no one fell off once the ride started moving. Angela's horse was light pink, trimmed with pale green and white, and she patted it's head and talked to it as the carousel began to spin. Teddy kicked his little legs, delighting in the movement of his horse, the flashing lights and the joyful sounds of the calliope.

"How about Mr Toad next?" Patrick suggested. They queued up in front of the ride which was housed behind the facade of a canvas, medieval festival tent. The guests in front of them loaded into small old fashioned motorcars of various colors named for the familiar story characters. Patrick and Timothy attempted to explain the story to Angela while they waited but she was more interested in the biscuits her mother was offering from her handbag. When their turn arrived Patrick and Teddy entered the first car, a blue one called Moley, and Shelagh, Angela and Tim took a light green one with the name Cyril. The two cars followed each other into Toad Hall, past an impressive stained glass window. Traveling through the hall their car turned a corner into the manor's kitchen where they nearly collided with a butler and were launched out into the countryside; it was at this point that Angela started whimpering. From there they veered left and right as they careened through a series of obstacles and terrors including towering, tottering barrels and the bright light of an oncoming train.

"No!" Angela cried, "Go back to Disneyland!"

With one last sharp turn they raced through a demon's mouth where a sign in flames welcomed them; adding to the wicked mood, the entire room was heated. Angela sobbed and buried her head in Shelagh's chest. A welcome gust of cooler air brought them to the unloading station to disembark. Back on solid ground, Angela was still in tears and clinging to Shelagh. The three oldest Turners looked sadly at each other, feeling terrible. Watching the little girl they no longer felt this was the happiest place on earth.

"How did Teddy do?" Shelagh fretted.

"He was fine," Patrick reassured her, "in his own little world as usual."

"I think Angela might do better with one of the attractions that are out in the open," Shelagh recommended quietly. "If she can see the course of the ride from the queue then she will know what to expect."

Turning around, Patrick noticed Dumbo. Lifting Angela in his arms he dried her tears and pointed to the circle of rotating elephants, rising up and down as they went. She sniffed and shook her head.

"You don't want to ride in one of those silly elephants with Daddy?" he said, gently tickling her ribs. She giggled, still indicating no but a little less convincingly.

'I'll tell you what. Let's join the queue and if you change your mind, we don't have to ride."

This time she nodded and the family trooped over to wait for a chance on the flying pachyderms. While they waited Angela watched the Circus Train pass by, filled with laughing children, and noticed an enormous whale with a blinking eye.

"What's that, Timmy?" she asked.

Tim consulted the map. "That's the Storybook Land Canal Boats attraction. It says here they sail past miniature recreations of storybook character homes."

Angela wrinkled her nose.

"You'll love it Ange. It says you can see where the Three Little Pigs live and Cinderella and Alice in Wonderland!"

Her eyes grew wide at this new information. "We'll just have to talk you through the part where we sail through the whale's mouth," Tim muttered under his breath.

Shelagh elbowed him and whispered, "Let's have a successful Dumbo experience before you bring that to her attention." Tim sensibly agreed.

Patrick and Timothy juggled the ticket booklets for the family, pulling out the proper coupons at each ride and presenting the correct number to gain entrance. Timothy worried they would run out of E tickets too soon until Patrick reminded him they could purchase additional ones at any of the ticket stalls scattered throughout the park.

As they reached the front of the Dumbo queue each group of riders was handed a wooden magic feather, indicating there was an available elephant for them to board. Patrick swooped Angela off to their seat, talking to her and making her laugh the entire way, effectively distracting her from any fear.

Shelagh and the boys took the elephant behind them. Climbing in first, she exclaimed, "Oh, Timothy! There aren't any closing doors!" She squeezed as far to the other side of the elephant as she could, hugging Teddy tightly to her.

"We'll be fine, Mum," Tim soothed. "The ride is designed to keep us in. It's physics, centripetal force and all that." He reached forward to test the toggle switch that would move their elephant up and down as an attendant came round and collected their feather.

Shelagh pressed her lips together and huffed a nervous laugh, "All the same, don't take us up too high, dear."

Timothy rolled his eyes, "If you're uncomfortable, I'll take us down," he promised. The ride began to rotate which activated the toggle switches. Tim moved it and they started to ascend. He stopped them about half way up, "How's that?" he asked.

Shelagh nodded tentatively. Teddy tried to push up to a standing position but she held him snugly and he began to protest. She could see Patrick and Angela in front of them, up as high as they could go. She felt a queasiness in her stomach even though she could see that Angela was safely on the inside edge of the car.

"Mum, let me move the elephant; it will keep him happy," Tim suggested and Shelagh reluctantly agreed. He moved them down a bit, then back up. Teddy shrieked with glee and Shelagh shared a nervous smile with her elder son. Timothy took them higher at the same time Patrick and Angela were heading down. Shelagh could see into their elephant and to her relief Angela looked to be having a wonderful time. Patrick had given her control of the toggle and they were skimming along about midway in flight. A few more ups and downs for both of them and the toggle disengaged; all the elephants slowly descended and the ride spun to a stop.

Shelagh watched Patrick unfold himself from the car and then Angela clamber out with a big smile on her face. Tim exited their elephant and reached for Teddy, while Patrick leaned down to help Shelagh out.

"Did you see me, Mummy! We went up…" Angela gestured with her hand, "and then down and up again!"

Shelagh beamed, "I did see you! What a brave girl you are!"

"So are you ready to try the boats, Ange?" Tim wondered as he handed his brother over to his dad, "Let's see where your storybook characters live!"

Angela shouted triumphantly, "Yes!"

Patrick and Shelagh shared a contented smile, their happy family was indeed a blessing. As they stood in the next queue, Shelagh rummaged for the crackers and sliced apples she had packed in her handbag. Empty tummies didn't bode well for the younger or older members of her brood.

Patrick and Timothy prepared Angela for the upcoming ride, "We will sail through the mouth of the whale just like that boat," Patrick began, "and just like Pinocchio!"

"But we'll return to where we are standing just like those other boats over there." Tim finished. Angela nodded resolutely, but her lower lip trembled.

Whilst Tim and Patrick convinced Angela she could pass through the whale unharmed, Shelagh found herself in a conversation with the woman behind them in the queue.

"You have a beautiful accent, are you from England?"

"I was born in Scotland myself; but, yes, we're from London's East End."

"Ooooh, London!" the woman marveled. "What brings you here?"

"My husband and I are in the medical profession; we came to visit a hospital in Bonita Beach in order to observe some of their innovative procedures. We hope to put something similar into practise once we return home."

The woman shared that her mother had trained as a nurse, but had given it up once she married. "I didn't inherit the nursing gene though, I see blood and run in the opposite direction!" The subject turned to their respective children and Shelagh mentioned Angela's traumatic experience on Mr Toad.

"Well then I don't recommend Snow White and Her Adventures," the woman cautioned, "and even Alice in Wonderland has brought my littlest one to tears."

"Even Alice?" Shelagh was disappointed.

"Yes, but there are two rides based on Alice, so you can make up for it at the Mad Tea Party."

"Quite," Shelagh agreed. "What about Peter Pan's Flight? I would so like to take her on that."

"It does look like Mr Toad from the entrance," the woman warned her, "and it's all inside; but the ride itself has nothing frightening."

"Wonderful!" Shelagh was thrilled, "J. M. Barrie was a Scot himself and the book is considered a British classic. Not to mention the blessing it has been to Great Ormond Street Children's Hospital."

The woman nodded blankly, then smiled. "She'll be fine; now here's your boat, it was nice meeting you!"

They boarded a pale blue boat called Merryweather and Patrick distracted Angela by pointing out various other sights as they approached the whale's mouth. Once inside, there was nothing to see but the red, ridged roof of its palate but Patrick drew Angela's attention to the glowing light around the bend promising the end of the whale-tunnel. Soon she could see through to the outside world again and her little body relaxed. Their guide began to narrate their tour through the tiny landscapes and dwellings of fairyland such as The Three Little Pigs homes of straw, sticks and bricks, as well as the Big Bad Wolf's cave. Shelagh delighted in the little English village with a church and the entrance to the rabbit hole from Alice and Wonderland. The house of the Seven Dwarfs and Cinderella's castle enchanted Angela. Patrick and Tim were chuffed to see that the tour included a tiny, intricate replica of Toad Hall. The ride concluded with the Alpine village from Pinocchio, complete with Geppetto's workshop, and the family disembarked with a happy Angela in tow.

In thirty minutes time they were stood near the front of the queue for Peter Pan. The entrance did indeed look like the medieval tent at the front of Mr Toad's Wild Ride and that was proving to be a stumbling block for Angela. Armed with the information of what they would meet inside, the elder Turners felt confident in their decision to keep encouraging her. She knew the story of Peter Pan and talking about the story with her made for a good start. Then they were able to see the ride vehicles, small galleon ships, with a variety of patterned sails, hanging from an invisible track on the ceiling. This time Patrick and Shelagh rode with Angela and Tim took Teddy after being given strict instructions to keep a tight hold on him.

Their galleon flew through the Darling's nursery, then out of the window and over London. Stars twinkled in the night sky as they passed such iconic landmarks as Big Ben and the Tower Bridge; it was truly beautiful. Angela fear vanished and she sat forward in her seat, mesmerized. Shelagh was surprised to find herself a wee bit homesick at the sight, just as Patrick reached over to put his arm around her and draw her closer as the space left by Angela provided.

"Quite a strange place to find a little bit of home, isn't it, my love?" he whispered into her ear. She leaned her head on his shoulder as their little boat took them toward the first star on the right and straight on to Neverland. The last scene was Skull Rock with Captain Hook and crew and before they knew it they were outside and the ride was over.

Tim and Teddy were waiting for them, "That was a really short ride after such a long queue!" Tim exclaimed. "And this one wants a nappy change," he added, handing the baby to his mother. "How did you like it, Angela?"

"I never saw Peter Pan!" she exclaimed.

"Oh, I heard someone else ask about him. The lad working the ride said _we're_ supposed to be Peter Pan; we're viewing the ride from his perspective."

"Hmmm," three mystified Turners replied.

"If you could figure out where we should eat lunch, I'll get Teddy a clean napkin and then join you," Shelagh instructed.

A short while later, the family re-lived their exciting morning as they lunched at an ornate, white metal table and chairs, covered by a red and white umbrella.

"Mr Disney has certainly put a lot of thought into his theme park; he has incredible attention to detail," Shelagh remarked. "And I must say I am duly impressed by his inclusion of such fine examples of English literature!"

"Indeed," Patrick nodded.

Timothy interjected, "I'm keen to experience some American attractions as well! If we ever make it over to Frontierland they've got Davy Crockett canoes and Tom Sawyer's Island."

"That does sound like a proper American adventure!" Shelagh chuckled. Seeing Tim's eyes roll, she added, "Let's give a nod to Lewis Carroll and visit the Mad Tea Party before we're finished with Fantasyland, shall we?"

Tim laughed and began to clear the table of their lunch debris. It was decided that Patrick and Teddy would sit this one out and they headed to the viewing area while the three remaining Turners queued up to take a spin in a life-sized teacup. Each cup was brightly painted, some with designs while others were solid. A catchy tune, that might have been from the animated motion picture, was piped in; it sounded like the notes were being puffed from various sized teapots. When they reached the front of the queue they hurried toward the teacup Angela had suggested, pink and gold with large hearts around the sides. Shelagh was thankful that each cup had a little door that closed snugly. Angela sat back while Shelagh and Timothy placed their hands on the dinner-plate sized disc in the center of the cup; they would turn this to rotate the cup once the ride started. A quick discussion determined that they would both be turning in the same direction.

Patrick and Teddy watched as the cups started to spin. Timothy and Shelagh set a good pace and their cup was one of the fastest spinners. Shelagh's hair flew around her face and she and Tim laughed as Angela slid into her mother with the force of the spin. Teddy clapped and cheered as the colorful cups whirled in front of him and Patrick smiled remembering the time he had spun Shelagh in his office chair at the surgery; she certainly brought a special joy to each of their lives.

Angela was a little wobbly as they unloaded from their teacup. Looking around, Shelagh spied Patrick and, taking her daughter's hand, led the way over to him. As they approached, Patrick noticed Angela was holding her stomach, he crouched down to examine her more closely just as she vomited on the pavement, narrowly missing his shoes.

"Oh, Angela, you poor dear!" Shelagh exclaimed, rummaging for her handkerchief. "Let Mummy wipe your face." A park employee suddenly materialized, sprinkled sawdust on the offending mess and quickly swept it into his dustpan. "I do apologise," Shelagh did not like to be an inconvenience, "thank you so much for your efficiency."

"My pleasure, ma'am," and he was gone, leaving the Turners slightly astonished by his appearance and actions.

Patrick placed his hand gently on Angela's head. "I suppose the Mad Tea Party directly after lunch wasn't the most sensible of plans," he commented, then winced at the withering look he received from Shelagh. Trying to salvage the situation he offered to find them a quiet place to rest. Tim retrieved Teddy's pushchair and Patrick settled them on a cement seat in the shade, bordering a flowerbed. Angela lay with her head in Shelagh's lap and Tim set Teddy up with a bottle in the stroller.

"We'll be fine here for the moment," Shelagh thanked them and graced Patrick with a smile to let him know he was forgiven. "Why don't you boys have a look around the rest of the park?"

Anxious to expand his horizons beyond Fantasyland, Tim beckoned to his father and headed in the direction of the towering white mountain beyond the kiddie rides. Patrick squeezed Shelagh's hand before eagerly following him. Chuckling to herself, Shelagh reflected that sometimes it was like she had two teenagers, but she wouldn't have it any other way.

Angela quickly fell asleep and Shelagh watched as her breathing slowed and she rested peacefully. While they waited, Teddy's eyes grew heavy and she released the catch at the back of the pushchair seat, easing him into a prone position. He stretched, yawned dramatically, then gave himself up to sleep. Enjoying a moment to relax herself, Shelagh took in her surroundings, watching other families enjoy their day. After a pleasant half hour passed, she reached down to smooth the hair back from her little girl's forehead, praying Angela would be refreshed and ready to continue upon waking; they had planned to stay in the park until evening.

Glancing up, she caught sight of Patrick and Tim, faces flushed with excitement and hair ruffled. Laughing quietly as they came closer, she inquired, "What have you two been up to?"

"The Matterhorn bobsleds!" Tim exclaimed, "Mum, they're brilliant!"

Patrick agreed, "They were quite invigorating! And what an opportunity; I'm not likely to get anywhere near the Alps," he joked.

Shelagh giggled, "Nevertheless, they sound a wee bit too exciting for me."

"Tim is interested in walking over to Tomorrowland. If Angela is ready to wake up, I can carry her," Patrick proposed, "it looks like Teddy will sleep a while longer in his chair."

Shelagh approved, and Patrick leaned down to gently brush the back of his index finger against Angela's lips. She wrinkled her nose and pursed her mouth before slowly opening her eyes and looking up into her father's.

He smiled at her, "Are you feeling better?" She sat up and looked around for a moment, her small grin indicating that she was. "How about your tummy?" She nodded. Feeling her forehead and finding it cool, he reached out for her, "Up you go." She wrapped one of her arms around his neck and held on tightly as they left Fantasyland.

Passing the Matterhorn on their way toward their next adventure Tim pointed out the two climbers dressed in lederhosen near the top, "They make several climbs throughout the day."

Turning left, Tim enthusiasm continued, "Tomorrowland shows what the future of 1986 might look like!" Stopping at the entry they took in the Clock of the World, showing the current time anywhere on earth. "There's London," Tim pointed out, "eight hours ahead of us."

"I've only just surrendered to Pacific Standard Time," Patrick admitted. "I stopped counting the time difference yesterday." The family laughed together as they moved past the Clock and neared the 23 meter (76 foot) rocket poised outside the Rocket to the Moon attraction. Knowing she couldn't keep her boys from something as exciting as space travel, Shelagh agreed to watch the little ones while Patrick and Tim enjoyed the ride consisting of a film depicting a flight to the moon.

Teddy woke up just as the boys returned from space. Happy to see his brother, he squealed to be let out of the pushchair. Tim swung him up on his shoulders and the family walked through the House of the Future, marveling at wonders such as television remote-control devices and something called a microwave oven.

Angela agreed to let Tim take her on Autopia, meant to represent the future of driving. Tim drove them along multi-lane highways which predicted the future of mass transit. Concluding their time in Tomorrowland, the three eldest Turners thoroughly enjoyed the hands-on tour in the Hall of Chemistry.

Knowing Tim was anticipating a stop in Frontierland, Patrick folded the pushchair and the family boarded a Skyway bucket taking them on an aerial journey back across the park. They passed through the top of the Matterhorn where Tim pointed out the bobsleds zooming along the tracks below.

"Tomorrowland was fantastic!" Tim said excitedly, "do you think all of that will be commonplace one day?"

Patrick laughed, "Probably not in my lifetime, but quite possibly in yours."

"The cars though," Tim complained, "it was really hard to steer and took a lot of effort to press the accelerator. Driving a real car has got to be easier!"

"In some ways, son, but it demands concentration and executing multiple tasks simultaneously." Patrick cautioned him.

Tim rolled his eyes, "Can I start to learn as soon as we get back home?"

His dad promised they would explore the possibility.

Exiting the Sky Way, they turned right and arrived in the land of the American Wild West. Their first stop was the Shootin' Gallery, where Tim and Patrick competed against each other firing rifles at various scenes of the western town of Boothill.

When they finished, Tim asked eagerly, "Dad, are you still willing to paddle a Davy Crockett canoe with me?"

"Absolutely," his father replied.

Shelagh noticed that Patrick was looking fatigued, but knew he was reluctant to disappoint Tim. She and the little ones watched as the boys' canoe floated down the Rivers of America, powered by a group of twenty paddlers, varying in their levels of enthusiasm. The immense Mark Twain paddle boat sailed these same waters, but ran on an underwater track, a safe distance from the canoes. Later Patrick admitted some regret in his decision to join Tim, muttering that his arms were going to be sore for several days.

Late in the afternoon, they boarded a raft for Tom Sawyer's Island, for what would likely be their last attraction of the day. Timothy had read the works of Samuel Clemens and was anxious to experience the wild and free world of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. Crossing the same river they had canoed, and arriving on a rough island complete with rope bridges, caves, barrel bridges and a tree house, it was a dream come true for a city boy like Tim. Angela had become restless during the boys' boating trip and was ready to stretch her legs. Tim took her up and down and around the island, over the bridges and into the treehouse, wisely steering clear of the caves which seemed too dark and spooky for her. Understanding that Patrick was more than ready for a rest, Shelagh settled him on a bench while she watched Teddy toddle around nearby. Later Tim took pity on his brother and gave him a quick trip across the rope bridge and into the tree house before they returned to the mainland.

Twilight was falling when they stepped off the raft and the illuminated fairy lights made everything seem even more magical than before, but it was time to leave. Teddy and Angela were fading fast, as were their parents. It had been an incredible day filled with non-stop amusements; Shelagh had to admit she felt indulgent. What kind of person had an entire day to devote to leisure? Certainly, none of their colleagues nor patients. There was work to be done in Poplar of one kind or another and today stood in stark contrast to life back home.

Still, it had been a special time with their family, one they wouldn't soon forget. Taking Patrick's hand, she met his weary smile with her own, then thanked Tim for his help throughout their visit.

"I didn't mind," he assured her, "there was something entertaining for everyone here."

"Who knows how many more family holidays we'll have with all five of us." Patrick pointed out.

"He's right, Timothy," Shelagh said quietly, "When you go off to university, it will change things."

Tim put his arm around her shoulders, "I'll always find my way back, Mum."

"Now if we could only find the car," Patrick lamented, his voice tinged with tiredness.

"Don't worry, Dad; I studied the parking system and recorded it here," Tim laughed, pulling from his pocket the card they had been handed upon entering the car park. "We're in Pinocchio, 5-B!"

He rolled his eyes as his parents shared a proud, yet puzzled, glance; _How will they ever get along without me?_


	6. Chapter 6

**Farewell**

Angela pressed her face against the window as their taxicab pulled away from the kerb. The Bartlett family stood on their stoop, waving them off, but all she could see was Rascal padding down the sidewalk, looking for all the world like he would miss her as well. Once their car turned the corner and he was out of sight, she leaned into her mother's embrace and sobbed at the absence of her new friend.

"Oh, my dear Angela," Shelagh soothed, "do you know what would be lovely?"

Angela sniffed and shook her head.

"Once we're on the aeroplane, you can draw pictures of Rascal and all of the special things you did together."

The little girl's shuddering breaths subsided as she considered the idea.

"And once we're home, you can keep some of them for yourself," Shelagh patted Angela's back, "and send the others to the Bartletts with our thank you note."

Angela tearfully agreed. Shelagh cuddled her closer and wondered if it was madness to consider adding a pet to their already full and hectic lives. She decided to keep the thought to herself until they had been home for a few weeks at least.

Shelagh watched the last views of Bonita Beach glide past her window as she steeled herself for the long journey home. Having endured the trip here with two small children she was better prepared for their return but, at the same time, more anxious knowing the challenges ahead due to the sheer length of time it would take them to get there.

Nevertheless, as incredible as their California visit had been, Shelagh was happy to be on her way home. For one thing, she was looking forward to a return to the normal routine for Teddy and Angela; the constant excitement and disruptions to naptime and her efficient schedule were starting to wear on both children, and consequently, their mother.

Timothy was equally enthusiastic to return to Poplar. Seated on the other side of the back seat, he alternated between gazing out the window and writing in his notebook. He was accumulating a long list of their American adventures as well as questions in which to talk over with his girl, Debbie. Currently he was trying to make sense of the school system in the US; Patrick and Timothy had joined Professor Bartlett for a tour of the university and found it was quite different than the English system they were familiar with. Mrs Bartlett's description of primary and secondary school wasn't any easier to comprehend. Smiling to himself, he envisioned many long discussions with Debbie accompanied perhaps by walks in the park or visits to the cinema.

Patrick sat in the front seat with Teddy on his lap, conversing with their driver about the upcoming Olympic Games set to begin in October in Tokyo. Shelagh caught his eye then blushed at his wink, remembering their early morning conversation; her husband was eager to regain the privacy of their own bedroom. She straightened her posture and pursed her lips, but his cheeky grin communicated that he saw right through her prim facade. Shaking her head, she returned his smile playfully then turned her mind to the greater good; both she and Patrick were enthusiastic about sharing the miracle of the maternity trolleys with the NHS and were keen to add one to the maternity home in the very near future. Thinking back over their visit, she was struck by the number of healthy mothers and happy children that had surrounded them throughout their time here whether in the neighborhood, on the beach or their day at Disneyland. Making use of the toolkits would bring life and all its possibilities to a larger percentage of the mothers they cared for. How each would use that life would vary from person to person, and not all would have access to the luxuries they experienced this past week, but to give them the opportunity rather than the alternative was now more fully within their capability. Filled with purpose and a renewed sense of energy she gathered up her handbag and Angela's things as their taxi swept into the Los Angeles airport and they prepared to travel home.


	7. Chapter 7

**Epilogue: Winter 1965**

 _Saving Rhoda_

Shelagh stepped away from Rhoda's side, over to the haemorrhage trolley and handed Patrick an empty calibrated bowl in exchange for the overflowing container in his hands.

"We'll need at least 50 mils of ergometrine," Patrick stated.

As Shelagh nodded and hurried to the door she saw him begin uterine massage to encourage Rhoda's uterus to contract. Shelagh leaned out into the corridor and called urgently to Nurse Anderson, "Obstetric haemorrhage; we are in need of ergometrine and please call for an additional midwife."

Mere moments later Lucille arrived with the medicine, followed by Nurse Dyer. Shelagh took over for Patrick and he administered the injection. "Prepare a second one just in case," he instructed Nurse Dyer.

Nurse Anderson stepped to the head of the bed and spoke softly to an unconscious Rhoda, "Baby is being looked after in the nursery, Mrs Mullucks, we need you to summon your strength and stay with us."

"How much blood has she lost?" Patrick inquired. Valerie reported her findings based on the amount in the two containers plus an estimation of what was on the floor. Although the bleeding had slowed, it had not stopped.

"She needs a transfusion. Nurse Dyer, check her blood group and call for two units." While Valerie followed his instructions, he turned to Shelagh, "I'll give her the second injection; you'll need to start the intrauterine balloon." Shelagh quickly found the item in the third drawer of the haemorrhage trolley and returned to Rhoda.

Pointing to Nurse Anderson he added, "Wait until Nurse Dyer returns and starts the transfusion, then I want an ambulance on standby in the event these measures don't generate immediate improvement." The young nurse nodded while continuing to support Rhoda with quiet words of encouragement.

Shelagh inserted the collapsed balloon into the patient's uterus. It was meant to expand as it filled with blood, stemming the blood loss while providing compression. An attached tube would allow for drainage if the haemorrhage continued beyond the size of the balloon. By the time she finished the procedure, Nurse Dyer was in the process of setting up Rhoda's IV and Nurse Anderson had left to phone the ambulance.

Several minutes later, Rhoda's color had noticeably improved as had the rest of her vital signs. Tension still hung about the room but it was now tinged with hope. Nurses Anderson and Dyer stood on either side or Rhoda's bed, continuing to assess her condition.

Patrick stepped away and Shelagh followed, knowing he would want to talk through the management for each possible outcome. Deep in consultation, they were startled by an exclamation from Nurse Dyer alerting them that Rhoda was regaining consciousness.

The Turners quickly joined the two nurses at their patient's bedside. Although clinical protocol required they remain professional, more than one pair of eyes were moist with relief and several spontaneous prayers of praise could be heard.

Rhoda blinked up at them, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Shelagh spoke gently, "You lost a lot of blood, Rhoda, when you were delivering the placenta. But you're all right now."

"I don't remember…" Rhoda stammered weakly.

"That's because the blood loss caused you to black out," Valerie explained. "We've given you an IV drip in your arm to top up your blood supply."

Rhoda couldn't help but smile at Valerie's familiar demeanor. Her smile quickly faded, however, as if she suddenly remembered why she was there. "The baby..." she whispered frantically, tears rapidly escaping her eyes.

"Baby is perfectly fine Mrs Mullucks," Lucille soothed, "he's just down the hall in the nursery."

"Yes, Rhoda," Shelagh added, "you can see your precious little boy very soon." She took both of Mrs Mullucks' hands in hers and bent down to her level, "You've been so brave through every step of this, Rhoda, everyone and everything is well now."

Rhoda sniffed and accepted the handkerchief Lucille offered. She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath, pulling herself together.

"That's the Poplar spirit," Valerie encouraged her with a grin.

Having determined by now that Rhoda was well and truly stable, Nurse Anderson was sent to cancel the ambulance request.

Patrick stepped forward, "You've had a rough time of it, Mrs Mullucks, but I think under close supervision you should be able to recover here at the Maternity Home, although I foresee an extended stay."

An anxious laugh escaped from Rhoda's lungs, "It's not so bad, Doctor; meals on a tray, fashion magazines...I reckon I'd better enjoy it while I can."

The room was filled with laughter when Nurse Anderson returned, carrying Baby Mullucks. "Just for a quick peek, mind" she instructed. Rhoda nodded and let Lucille help her hold the baby.

"Oh, you do forget how tiny they are!" Rhoda exclaimed, then looking up, she asked, "When can my family meet him?"

Patrick held up his hand in a gesture indicating she take things slowly. "Not until at least tomorrow," he advised, "you need to be monitored and cleaned up and then some rest."

Rhoda agreed and turned her attention back to her son, enjoying a few more blissful minutes with him.

Nurses Anderson and Dyer were tasked with assessing Rhoda and preparing her for a bed in the ward while Baby Mullucks was handed to Shelagh to return to the nursery. After settling the infant in a cot she turned to find that Patrick had followed her into the room. The relief on his face, she realised, must surely match her own; the providential arrival of the haemorrhage trolley forefront in both of their minds.

The Kenilworth Row Maternity Home had finally received its promised toolkit only a fortnight ago, nearly six months after the Turners return from America. Two training drills were immediately held in order to familiarise all medical staff members with the contents and procedures, but the actual need for its use had not presented itself until today.

Stepping into her husband's arms, Shelagh allowed herself a moment to consider how differently this delivery could have ended. Then she shook off what might have been and took comfort in Patrick's embrace as well as God's answer to her prayers for provision and protection.

One of the babies in the room suddenly gave a wee squall of protest before falling back to sleep. As Shelagh turned to check on the infant, Patrick kept her close. She leaned into his side and together they gazed at the beautiful examples of brand new life before them.

"The product of our labours," Patrick quipped.

Shelagh rolled her eyes, "Really, Patrick! I should think you were wiser than to say that in front of any woman." She shook her head at him before adding quietly, "although we laboured almost as hard today."

He nodded in agreement. "It's a privilege," he mused, keeping his voice low, "to care for the mothers along the way and ensure they survive it."

"We had a good team today, Patrick," she replied, resting her head against him. " _We're_ a good team."

He tightened his arm around her and rubbed his thumb across her shoulder, "Not forgetting the miracle of the toolkit," he added.

"Never forgetting," she sighed. "Out of all our experiences in California, as wonderful as they were, that's what will last and make a difference; that was the most important."

"Well, that and your bathing costume," he winked.

-end

 **A/N: Many thanks to ginchy-amanda and my-little-yellowbird for their tremendous help and support with this story!**


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